


Depthless, Deathless, Eternal.

by Perr1n



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perr1n/pseuds/Perr1n
Summary: I have revived this at long last.I owe it to all those who wish to see it continued.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaire/gifts).



Her eyes were alight, akin to a pair of polished, brimming with anger and pain.

She had tried to push me away, I merely shoved back, the whole boat rocking from our combined weight. One of my hands is curled around Hydra's neck, other poised, the tips of the fingers silver and metallic, five sharp daggers aimed at the face of Dagons whore.

"Choose your next words carefully." I hiss, voice vibrating and hoarse. "For they may be your last."

Hydra does not speak and after a heavy aired beat of silence I step back, letting out a sigh as my disguse becomes solid again. 

She rolls her shoulders, the bruise around her neck filling me with satisfaction. 

"So be it, Nephthys, so be it." Is all said before Hydra leaps over edge, vanishing into the murky depths. Not a moment later, the boat lurches to the left, sending me sprawling.

Looking up, I find a multitude of towering shapes, dripping water, had clambered onto the boat with me, clicking and growling in their strange, guttural tongue. 

One lunges, I rolling away from its down ward stomp, lashing out with a bladed tendril that removes its foot from the ankle, the crippled Star Spawn howling as it falls, a thick, foul smelling black ichor gushing free. 

Rising to my feet, I duck under the seconds claw swipe, landing a kick that sends it hurtling through the boats cabin in a shower of wood splinters and metal. Turning, I recive a punch that knocks me back a step, hacking up a glob of purple stained spittle as my attacks chitters in some horrid imitation of laughter. More and more Star Spawn clamber of the sides, I bracing to unleash myself, my true visage, only for the closest one of the creatures to take skyward.

All of us look up in confusion and surprise, and even I yelp in alarm when the Spawn comes back down, now missing most of its head. 

With nothing but the faint wooshing of air, a towering, leathery black shape lands at my side, her featureless face still somehow able to radiate intense rage. 

"Serpo!" I exclaim in delight, my pet tackling another beast to the ground, wailing on it with claws sharper than razors.

Now the center of attention, the Spawn turn towards the Nightgaunt in an attempt to help their Kin currently being mauled, but then one by one they begin to fall, round holes leaking blood having begun to appear across their bodies, the sharp crack of Edward Pierce's gun sending them running for the safety of the ocean.

"Xaire!" The human detective shouts, "Come on!" 

"With me, Serpo!" I call, leaping onto the wooden docks, two companions in tow. 

"Fuckin' christ on his throne!" Edward snarls as up ahead muzzles flashes light the midnight street. 

We duck into an alley, a cloud of gravel dust from a bullet that struck the wall pelting my skin.

Now, mind you, I normally would not be concerned with being harmed by human weapons, for they have up until recently been unable to so much as leave a scratch, but whatever enchantment was placed upon our foes weapons made them able to harm Outer Beings. 

"Where are we even going?" I shout as the three of us sprint back into Darkwater.

"Anywhere but here!" Is all I get in reply.

Serpo flaps both her wings, gliding upward to perch atop a building, glancing to and fro. Just as quickly she aims a finger in a direction. 

"Left!" Pierce yells, understanding the meaning of the gesture.

And so we take a sharp turn that way, the walls of mossy stone structures on either side of us, panting heavily, our hearts, my three and his single thudding in exertion, the sting of my still healing wound, caused by a blast of buckshot keeping my senses on high alert.

Not high enough it seems, for we screech to a halt when a man, rifle aimed, steps out in front of us. 

_"Cthulhu Fhtagn."_ He growls in an inhuman voice, this being all he gets to say before he is launched through a brick wall courtesy of Serpo, laying in a mangled heap of broken bones and blood. 

"That works" I say, manuvering around the corpse, others close behind, only to slam the front door before the three Star Spawn that were runing down the street towards us can spot me. Serpo beckons us to follow upstairs, once at the top she gives the cord that dangled from the roof a tug, bringing down a sharply angled ladder we clamber up, Pierce closing the attic hatch to envelop us all in darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness enveloped us, the only sounds being our hushed but still labored breathing. 

"Wha' happened?" Pierce whispers to my left. 

"Hydra and an army of Prowlers is what, they destroyed the boat, there isn't any way off the island."

He swears quietly, on my other side Serpo remains silent except for the faint rustling of her wings. Blinking rapidly, my vision adjusts to the pitch-black attic, becoming as clear as day. Pierce is crouched low, pressed up against a support beam, glancing about blindly, human eyes poor for the night. 

Serpo sits calm and relaxed and if she was having trouble seeing I could not tell, for Nightgaunts have no visible eyes with which to look at things.

It seemed, however, she was fine, for one smooth, bony hand reaches out to curl around my wrist, I return the gesture by stroking her slender, taut throat. "You did good, my pet," I tell her, she nuzzling her horned skull into my chest. 

"What do we do now?" The human asks after a bit of silence. 

I pause, mulling over my answer, "We should be fine until morning, did you tell anyone where you were going?"

"Aye, folks back on the mainland, said I'd be back in a week." 

"And if you arent?"

He hesitates, "Guess they'll send someone out here to look for me, and then someone to look for them. Here's hoping eventually the army gets involved."

"I don't doubt it, just hope its soon."

"Yeah."

We sit in relative peace for some time, until a question is thrown my way. "You got anybody waiting for you out there, Veronica?" 

I lick my lips, "A brother, little daughter, and my wife." "Wife?" Pierce hums. "Wife," I confirm. 

"How old is your kid?" Now that one was a bit harder to say. By the standards of most species, including humans, Oya was hundreds of thousands of years old, yet her behavior was, in the eyes of fellow Outer Beings akin to a child just reaching puberty. 

"Thirteen, maybe fourteen," I say, really not sure at all. "You don' know your own kid's age?" 

"Never been around for long. My job," For no real reason I make air quotes, despite the fact Pierce could hardly see his own hands, let alone mine. "It keeps me away from home, but I try to visit whenever I can."

Letting out a sigh, I am surprised by how shaky it is. Serpo notices this, pressing her cool, smooth body against mine in a comforting embrace. "I miss them, Edward. I miss them and I saw them less than a day ago." Pierce fishes out his flask, taking a swig. 

"Ya wouldn't love them if ya didn't." He knuckles a few drops away from his chin. I smile, again forgetting he was a human man with human eyes, incapable of noticing the expression. And then just as quickly I realize I was not a human woman, nor a woman by his species definition of the word, and am shocked by how upsetting this clarification makes me, though I know not why.


	3. Chapter 3

Some time passes by, how much though, I am uncertain of, but it must have a large amount, for soon the gentle rumble of Pierce's snoring starts up. Serpo lay curled in a ball in my lap like a kitten, a ten-foot-tall winged kitten. 

If she was asleep I could not tell, though she stirs to what I assume was look at me with her featureless, curved horned face. "What do you suggest we do?" I ask out of boredom, knowing full and well she could not answer with words for she lacked the means to do so. Instead, the Nightgaunt shrugs, the gesture surprisingly human-looking, bumping her cheek into my hand in hopes I would return to petting her.

"Strange little demon, you are" I sigh, enjoying the smooth texture of her skin, a nice change from the rough, dusty wood of the floor. 

Serpo vibrates silently, I guessing this was her purring, tail wrapped around my waist, tickling my hip with the stiff bristles on that covered the tip, akin to the teeth of a hairbrush. 

"I don't know what to do." I admit to my pet, "This is strange, even by my standards." "They almost killed me, me!" Pierce snuffles nearby. "A human, a tiny sack of water and flesh almost murdered one of Allfather Azathoths, four original children. The god of anything and everything that ever is or was created me in his image, yet here I am, cowering in some dusty attic."

A humorless chuckle escapes me, "To think, even for a moment. If someone had told me this before I'd think it was a joke, it still is, in a way. Just isn't all that funny anymore."

Serpo wraps both lanky limbs around my neck, forehead against mine. 

"Awfully affectionate tonight, arent we?" I giggle, glancing over at Pierce, still fast asleep, then to the only window in the room, which did next to nothing in terms of providing light, thanks to the thick, inky black clouds that shrouded the waxy full moon, giving everything a very faint grey tinge.

I tiptoe over to said window, which opens silently when I give it a push.

"After you," I say, Serpo with inhuman flexibility crawling out, up onto the roof.

I follow after, using newly sprouted claws to anchor myself to the wall, finding the Nightgaunt perched on the edge like a gargoyle, radiating, even in her faceless state, amusement at my less than graceful clambering to sit by her side, though she still offers a hand to help pull me up.

Below us, Darkwater stretches out like a gothic painting, most of the buildings dark and lifeless, a sparse few with the glow of candles filtering through windows, alongside the torches of men and women as they scramble up and down the cobblestone streets in search of us. 

An Idea sprouts in my head then, one that quickly evolved into a plan of action, I standing, rolling my shoulders as dual sets of sinewy black wings sprout from my back, which I spread out, relishing the ability to stretch them after Azathoth knows how long lack of use.

"How about you and I get some answers?" Serpo nods eagerly, excited by the notion of serving her master, of flying by her side. 

Stepping back a bit, I sprint forward, throwing myself off the edge, giving a grunt of exertion as my wings pull, sending gusts of wind downward while I soar upward, so high that I breach some of the lower clouds, twirling like a ballerina, the thrill of freedom, the euphoria of no longer being confined by my disguise causing me the laugh aloud, noise carried on the midnight winds like a witch upon her broomstick.

Serpo glides, more silent than a ghost to my left, limbs tucked close, tail wagging, swimming through the air just like a snake would through the water. 

The last vestiges of my false, human form fall away, skin harder than stone, whiter than bones, eyes black pits from which twinkling stars glow. 

We drift along, searching, hunting, our prey spotted, a young man, hardly old enough for the stubble on his chin, marching down a desolate road with a shotgun in hand, filled with those strange, enchanted rounds that tore through my skin, once thought unbreakable. 

We swoop down, the air cracking as we reach speeds no earthly creature could even dream of coming close to matching, Serpo looping her four paws around each of his limbs, up and away just as quickly, in the blink of an eye. 

We land upon another roof, Serpo depositing the human, who cowers in fear at my visage, a rictus, corpse-like grin splitting what could be considered my face. 

**_"Hello there."_** I hiss, relishing the scent of terror his squishy body lets off.

This was going to be fun.


	4. Chapter 4

"No...N-No!" The human stutters, crawling backwards, face a mask of absolute terror. 

Serpo darts forward, hands gripping his wrists, hoisting the man to stand up. "I have questions, I expect answers." My voice is high and reedy, nearing the limit of normal hearing. "I don't know anything! Please! I-" My hand cups his jaw, nails digging into the soft flesh. "Save your crying for sombody that cares." He sniffles, pathetic and weak, niave and frail, mortal and human. 

"Who is this Cthulhu I keep hearing about?" The man stares with wide, tear stricken eyes, "Cthulhu? What are you talking about? What even are you?"

One palm strikes his cheek, the bare minimum of my strength more than enough to make his head reel back like it'd been hit with a hammer. "I am the creature that is about to rip your heart out through your anus unless you tell me what I want to know!" 

His face is red, red as the blood that trickled from his nose bent the wrong way. "I..I cant." My response is to chuckle softly, "Sure you can, you just choose not to. Makes me wonder why your peoples name means Wise Man." 

"I just cant! He's listening! He hears everything!" 

My many eyes glance about, "I see no one." 

"That's cause he wont let you. His eyes and ears are everywhere! I even find them in my dreams...Nowhere is safe from the Great One! The things he'll do to me if I say anything...Oh god please, just let me go!" "And why should I do that? After everything I and my dear Serpo have gone through tonight, I think we deserve a snack." Five silver orbs lock on the Nightgaunt. 

"Wouldn't you agree?" Her blank canvas of a head nods. 

"Noooo! Please, why?" My finger, tipped with a needle thin point stops mere centimeters away from his throat. "Why?" I hum, "Why not?"

I sink my hand into his shoulder, wiggling around, feeling the tendons and meat flex as he thrashes in Serpo's unyeilding grip, the howl of agony sending a delightful tingle down my form, Serpo with her head rolling on her neck, the waves of pain and fear his body radiates envigorating the Nightgaunts sore muscles. 

Her tail is scraping along the mans ribs, a cruel, savage tickling of his most sensitive regions, the spluttering, hiccuping sounds he makes causing the fire with my deepest regions to grow into a blazing inferno.

When at last he falls silent, little more than a heap of mangled flesh violated in ways that are better left unsaid, Serpo is cuddled up against my chest, the remnants of our more carnal desires leaving us both feeling full and content.

Again I hear the telltale sound of disaporval in you all. 

I _am cruel. A monster. A killer. A sadistic abomination._

And just like before I must remind you we are all guilty, none of us have the right to judge each other, for we are all sinners, no matter how pure. 

_But Nepthys, he was just some innocent man!_ To that I laugh, Innocence is a concept made by those too weak to accept that they were anything but. When you see a cockroach, don't you feel a sense of disgust? When it is crushed underfoot, don't you enjoy the fact that the accursed vermin was dead? When a pig screams just before it is slaughtered, does the butcher care?

No, no they don't. Some even relish, so thank you for that.

I think all of you reading this forget who I am, you fail to appriciate how difficult it is for me to word this story into something you all understand. 

I am not forcing you to listen to this tale, you can leave whenever you want. Those among you who actually have a stomach may stay, for at the very least you realize that this is not some cliche tale of a noble heroine. 

Nay, it is the story of I, Nephthys, fourthborn Daughter to the Lord Azathoth, king of anything and everything is, was and will be. I am no human, I am what you with you little brains could never hope to comprehend. I am an Outer Being, the precursors to life as reality knows it. I do what I please, where I please, however I please. 

You would be wise to know the difference.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time I force myself to rise from the oddly peaceful nap me and Serpo had been enjoying, the sun was high in the sky, its warm glow comforting even to an eldritch albino alien like me. 

Serpo nuzzles her cheek against mine. "Sleep well?" I ask my pet, who nods slowly. If she had a mouth it no doubt would be curled in a smile. Our plaything still lays where it was discarded, the stench of death permeating its form, which had begun to turn purple. I wonder what Oya would have thought if she were here? Would she join in, or grow flustered?

And what of Nyarlathotep, Shub, and Aylith? 

Then, like a speeding train, my mind remembers where I was. 

"Pierce!" I gasp. "We need to find him." Serpo tilts her head, hands raised in a questioning gesture. _Why?_ It seemed to ask. "Well, we can't just leave him alone," I reply. The Nightgaunt shakes her skull, _No._ "What do you mean no?" 

Her clawed finger points to the dead human. "What about him?" She jabs more forcefully, then directs it towards the town, going back and forth. "Its a human, yes. What are you implying?" 

She lets out a silent huff, using her nail to etch an image into the stone roof we were standing on. It was rough, but I understood what it represented. 

Pierce. 

Serpo taps on her carving, the gestures to the corpse. I finally get it. 

_Why help him? He is human._

She did have a point, why do I care about him? Why should I worry at all about the man? Why do I worry if he was alone and afraid?

HE was a mortal, a tiny speck of sand amongst the dunes of time and space. The comparison between me and Edward was like an ant witnessing a hurricane. Yet still, a part of me is concerned about his wellbeing. But it was not because I did not want him to be safe, no, never would I stoop that low. It was because he held answers to questions, Yog-Sothoth told me that Pierce was important to unraveling this rapidly growing mystery. 

Yes, that is why I hope he is safe, he was useful, nothing more and nothing less. 

I roll my shoulders, spreading my wings. "Come, let us find the insufferable man."

We take off, high enough to avoid being spotted, low enough to see Darkwater in its entirety, oddly normal looking in the daytime, especially considering what we went through last night. Unfourtanatly, by the time we hone in on the building Peirce was left inside, clambering through the attic window, he is nowhere to be seen, in his place a slim, toned bodied young man, flanked by two Star spawn, hands clasped behind his back, stoic and still, even as Serpo and I stare down the monsters that loomed on either side of him like guards. 

"Hello, Nepthys." He hums in a voice slicker than oiled silk, the snowy white hair upon his head shaved close to the scalp. 

My fangs are bared, I'd recognize that tone anywhere in the galaxy. 

"Dagon." He grins back, teeth serregted and triangular, like a sharks. 

"Lord Cthulu told me that one of Azathoths original four would be among those to oppose us, but never would I have thought it was the pale abortion I am speaking to now." Serpo drags her claws across the wooden floor, just as offended as I from the remark. "What have you done with the human Edward Pierce?" My voice wavers on a razors edge between english and etheral. 

"Ah." Dagon rumbles, inspecting his well manicured nails, looking bored and uninterested. "He is being taken care of as we speak, far away from here, far past you and your little toys reach." "If you hurt him, by all of time I shall-" "Shall what?!" Dagon interrupts, eyes two polished rubies. The Spawn growl and hiss, flexing their paws in anticipation. "You first born are so arrogant, thinking the whole of reality is yours to own." 

Dagon chuckles softly, "But soon, all of that shall change. Oh how it will change." 

"You and Hydra are insane, to think for even a moment you stand a chance against Azathoth. Even I know it is impossible!" 

He clicks his tongue disaproovingly. "My dear, repulsivie Nepthys, you forget that nothing is impossible. Given enough time and resources, anything can be acomplished." 

My skin burbles and pops, turning whiter than bone, eyes brighter than stars. **_"Such as killing you?"_** I ask, lunging before he can respond.


	6. Chapter 6

The wall behind Dagon explodes in a shower of wooden splinters and stone, me and him being propelled across the island at the speed of a bullet, snapping and hissing in our people's language. 

One tendril curls around my middle, snapping to the right, me with it. 

Dagon spreads himself outward, tentacles rattling like a million enraged snakes. I take aim, releasing a blinding lance of white power, Dagon banking to the side, closing the distance to drive a spear tipped finger through my chest, resulting in a scream that shattered every glass object within a mile radius. He slinks back, observing the blood upon his weapon with pride. 

**_"All bark, little bite."_ **

Snarling, I lash out in a flurry of strikes, channeling the power within me to fire off a torrent of energy slashes. 

Dagon manages to avoid most, save for the two that connect. One hits him square in the center, scorching his inky purple skin black, second cleaving off the paw that wounded me from the wrist downward. 

He brays in agony, torrents of brackish fluid gushing from the stump. 

**_"Is that your best?"_** I ask the wailing Outer Being, who glares with a legion of hellish crimson eyes. He moves to attack again, only to pause, as though he were listening to something. 

Grinning in the way our people grin, Dagon plummets at a sharp angle downward, impacting the ocean that surrounded Darkwater with enough force to send waves off in every direction. 

Covering my bleeding wound, I return to the attic, just in time to witness Serpo crack one Prowlers skull open with its own severed leg. 

Skittering over to me, the Nightgaunt throws her lanky arms around my human disguises neck in a relieved hug. "Nice to see you too," I say, surveying the now mostly trashed room, two Star Spawn laying in bits and pieces everywhere, yet still one spot is untouched by the carnage. 

It was faint but unmistakable, the stench of human blood, still slightly wet. 

My fingers scrape up a bit of the fluid and inhale deep, senses honing in on a location some distance away. 

"Peirce is alive!" I gasp, unfurling my wings. "Quickly, Serpo!" The Nightgaunt follows after me as we soar across the noonday sun, a flock of gulls squawking in alarm as the two of us dart past them. 

We touch down in front of a squat, sturdy building, the odor of antiseptic and rot prevalent. A hospital, in which Peirce was being held. Marching up to the front doors, I shove them open. 

Faces turn to me and Serpo in surprise, some scream, others gasp, most murmur in confusion. 

The woman behind the front desk visibly shivers as my silver eyes bore deep in her soul. "Edward Peirce, is he here?" She nods. "Where?" A finger aims itself to the right. "Bottom Fl-F-Floor." Despite myself, I nod in thanks.

Towards the staircase we walk, all giving us a wide berth, Serpo wrenching the iron door blocking our path and tossing it aside. 

Our footsteps echo as we descend, the smell of decay growing stronger by the moment, till at last, we reach the bottom, the stench of rot growing stronger and stronger. "Find Edward," I say, Serpo heading in one direction, I the other, marching past row after row of cells, in which poor souls gibber and scream in the throes of insanity, only to pause when a sound, faint yet for certain, there begins on my left. 

A pair of doors, behind which a deep, half intelligible string of nonsense can be heard. 

I push them open, revealing a spacious square room, the centerpiece being a metal chair, occupied by a haggard young man, bound in a straightjacket. 

"Whose there?" He asks, blindfolded face darting left and right. "Doctor?" 

"No." I reply. "Oh please, help me." "What are they doing to you?" I question, observing the trays of stained, rusty surgery tools that flank him. "My eyes. My eyes saw it, oh it was green. Greener than emeralds. It's all my fault." 

"How? What is your fault?" 

"I bought that accursed painting, it crawled through. The Shambler, born of cold and dark." 

My blood runs cold, "Impossible, the Shamblers are just a myth." 

He lets out a mirthless giggle laden with madness. 

"Nothing is impossible, not anymore. He comes, rising from the depths, to wage war upon the stars themselves." 

"Who is coming? Cthulhu?" 

**"DONT SAY HIS NAME!"** The man roars, I flinching in alarm. "To say his name is to invite him. We call him The Dreamer, but soon his dream shall end, us with it!" 

"They made me eat, eat of his child's flesh, it hurts, hurts to the bone. He is in my body, in my heart. I felt him gripping my eyes, I made sure he'd never have them." I finally see that the strip of cloth covering his eyes is stained with splotches of red, the spot where the orbs should be hollow. 

"But its too late now. He whispers, sings and beckons. I can't...I...Oh god." 

The rumbling murmurs resume, louder than ever, the overhead operating light flickering. 

"No! Nonononononono!" The man sobs, a murky, faint brown outline enveloping him, I unable to do anything but watch as he is lifted into the air, only to just as quickly be slammed down, screaming as various bones snap from the impact. 

He is lifted again, blindfold falling off so the empty, black sockets can bore right into me, before suddenly being folded in half, hurled into the far wall bloody and dead. The mumbling grows in intensity, the room darkening, the feeling of something truly alien, even to I taking hold in my mind. 

The sound reaches a crescendo, I clutching my ears in a futile effort to drown the noise out, emotions of fear and terror, something I very rarely felt rooting themselves deep. 

Something collides with my chest, propelled backward, a heavy, breath snatching weight on me. My hands reach out, grasping naught but air, the pressure constricting around my throat, cutting off my breathing. 

Spots danced in the corners of my eyes, widening with each moment. 

Whatever this thing was, it was beyond my abilities to fight back, strength a thing that I was helpless against. 

What little of my mind that had not already shut down registered just how absurd this was. 

I, an Outer Being, whose might and power caused any other species to kneel before me and dub I a goddess was now slowly being strangled to death by a vastly superior being, such a concept unheard of. That man was right, it seems. 

Nothing is impossible, not anymore. 

My vision goes dark entirely, but one image remains, it being of all I considered my friends, the sparse few I actually felt love for. 

Nyarlathotep, my brother, with his wide smile and jolly belly laugh. 

Shub-Niggurath, my love, her touch comforting me in my pain. 

Aylith, my sister, stern but wise. 

Oya, my daughter, whose warmth filled my cold heart.

Serpo, ever loyal and brave. 

Edward, his humanity was a beautiful thing I could never hope to fully understand. 

All vanishes, every sound, smell, sight and taste, gone like tears in the rain.

It would seem that this goddess was not as immortal as she once thought.


	7. Chapter 7

My many eyes flutter open, surveying the vast emptiness of space, an endless expanse of darkness freckled with twinkling points of light. 

Swimming through the void, I hone in on one small orb, blazing orange, which at least half a dozen more round balls circle. 

The scent was stronger now, the sensation of like kin so near. Zooming towards a lush, emerald green world, I descend, compacting myself to better swerve between the trees that stretched for what seemed miles, aimed upward at a light blue sky. 

Very near, I was. Yet even now I could not find them. 

Normally I would avoid confrontation with others of my kind, but the curiosity of what an Outer Being was doing this far out, on the very fringes of this galaxy, drew me in. 

Wings vibrating, I perch upon a branch, observing the forest floor, vision noting every single creature that scurries about below. None were what I was looking for. 

I turn, ready to continue the search, only to freeze once greeted by a multitude of slitted, golden pupils, each locked on my own eyes. 

**_"Who are you?"_** They ask, voice causing all nearby animals to flee from the power behind it. 

**_"Nephthys."_** My own voice replies, **_"What are you called?"_** They pause for a moment. **_"Aylith, Daughter of Shub-Niggurath."_**

I blink and am suddenly no longer there, I am somewhere else, lying upon a couch, staring up at a weathered wooden roof. 

To my left is the sound of rustling papers, I turn to find a man hunched over a desk the green sweater he wore missing both sleeves from the shoulders down, allowing me to see the many symbols that had been tattooed, cut and branded into his pale skin. 

Many glyphs I recognized, ancient wards to defend against evil spirits, more than a few made me feel uneasy, which meant they worked. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up." He states, glancing at me with bespeckled eyes, face almost entirely obscured by the amounts of facial hair it had. "Where...am I?" I groan, rubbing my sore neck. 

"My bookstore, Lady Nephthys. The Shambler cannot reach us here." 

Tilting my head, I rise into a sit. "You know me?" He scoffs, "I know enough, Outer Being. I felt your presence the moment you landed in Darkwater, but was doubtful up until the fiasco this morning." 

"You know my name, sir, yet I do not have yours." He sighs, turning to face me fully. "Algernon Drake, that should be enough for you, alien."

Despite myself, I chuckle, "Sharp tongue for a human." Drake laughs as well, "I've seen your kind, time and time again. There is very little left in the world I fear, you are not one of them." 

"What happened? How did I get here?" "The Shambler nearly killed you, I had been tracking the beast for a time, and just when I thought I had it, you come along and came the closest I've ever seen the Sultans firstborn come to looking like any other lesser creature." 

Rubbing my throat, "So I assume you are to thank for saving me?" Drake nods, "Indeed I am. You needn't worry about your pet Gaunt, it is with Pierce and a few like-minded fellows at an abandoned manor on the edge of the island, they wished me to bring you when you woke up."

A relieved sigh escapes me, Edward and Serpo were safe.

Standing up, I dust off my front, "Take me to them then, post-haste." 

Drake gives a mocking bow, stating in a equally sarcastic voice, "At once, my Master." 


	8. Chapter 8

The Hawkins Manor looms above us. Drakes rusty truck rumbling up to the front of the building, where two figures stand. 

"This her?" One asks in a nasaly voice, arms folded over a chest wearing a police uniform. "Yeah, its her." The woman next to the officer holds out one hand, which I shake respectfully. 

"Dr. Marie Colden. This is Officer Bradley."

"Veronica Xaire." I reply, "Is Edward nearby?" 

"I'm here, Veronica." A thick, western drawl rumbles behind Bradley, who steps aside as I throw my arms around the taller man's neck, careful not to break him in two. "I thought you were dead!" My voice is shaky and wavering. Pierce pats my back, "Takes more than what Fuller did to put this ole fossil down." 

The faint clicking of nails signals the approach of Serpo, who, to my great dismay, is limping, trying not to put weight on her right hind leg, her left horn now nothing but a jagged stump. "Wha-what happened to you, my sweet pet?" I gasp, stroking her jaw. "Prowlers, at least a dozen or more, they ambushed us on our way here. Charles Hawkins was with them." 

"I thought the Hawkins family was killed in a fire ten years ago, isn't that why this place is abandoned?" Colden asks. "We thought wrong." Drake replies, "Charles is working for The Dreamer, his wife Sarah is in the asylum." 

"She was brave, Xaire. Serpo fought them all off, saved me from Charles, but he did this to her before he ran." Pierce explains. I question how a human could do this. "He ain't human anymore." Edward says, "He's changed, looks more like a Prowler than a man now." "He ate the flesh of the Leviathan, one of Cthulhu's children," Drake explains, thumbing through a tome inscribed in Aramaic words. 

"A gift to his most loyal servants." 

"Could this day get any weirder?" Bradley bemoans. 

"I'm afraid it can, and will," I say, remaining knelt at my Nightgaunts side. "While me and Serpo were at the hospital looking for Edward, I met a man, he spoke of a creature I had for the longest of times thought was nothing but a myth."

"The Shambler, a being from outside our reality, born in a realm of eternal darkness, where very few things were capable of surviving. The Shambler, almost always starving due to lack of food, ate anything and everything edible within any sense, including others of its kind." 

Drake nods, picking up where I left off. "But it wasn't enough, it was still hungry, it was and always will be. All it cares about is hunting and killing to satiate its insatiable hunger. It somehow learned a way of appearing within the human world but is in this state nothing but a ghost. To truly exist, it needs a vessel, something made in its likeness so it can cross over." 

It dawns on me then, "That man said he bought a painting, apparently, it is a painting of the Shambler. But who made it and why?" 

"Sarah Hawkins." Bradley answers, "After the fire here the police searched the whole manor, found more than a few paintings with some of the symbols in Drake's books, my money's on one of 'em being a way for this Shambler to appear." 

"We must destroy this paint, send the demon back to its world." I proclaim, "Or else our fate will be to fill its stomach. And after that, we're gunning for Cthulhu and his cult."


	9. Chapter 9

Inside the dilapidated manor, each of us broke off into a different group, I remain close to Serpo and Edward, they just as happy as me to be reunited. "What exactly happened?" I ask the man. 

"Soon after you and Serpo left, th' attic got filled with a bunch of these fellers in white clothes. They said they was from the hospital, hear to take me back, went on and on 'bout how I was apparently an escaped patient." He rubs his forehead, "Place was more along the lines of a dungeon than a healing house, full 'o people all screaming and crying. They..." 

I lay a hand on his arm, gentle and comforting. "You don't have to talk about it." I assure. "Nah." Pierce grunts, "It's fine." 

Guiding him to a couch, we both sit down, I amused and a bit jealous when Serpo climbs into his lap, curled in a ball, enjoying the petting he gives her. 

"They pumped the cells full of gas, smelled like rot, made me see things." 

"What?" 

Pierce hesitates, "A city, but it was all wrong. The buildings were made of something shiny like metal, but felt like stone, all wet. They were huge, twisted like they was half-formed. And this voice, oh that voice."

His breathing wavers but steadies when I lean to rest my head on his shoulder, allowing him to comb through my hair. 

A single eye I sprout from my neck spies Drake on the landing just above us, staring in a mixture of what I assume to be disgust and confusion.

"It was so loud, like hearing a mountain speak. It said... No ocean is dark enough to hide my blood." 

"But then I woke up, Drake, Bradley and Colden were standing there, Serpo had you slung over her shoulder. Drake told me how he'd been hunting this Shambler thing, came across it trying to break your neck." 

"Talk about perfect timing, huh?" I mutter, thourgholy enjoying the scent of coffee and whisky his warm, solid body emenates. 

"Yeah." Pierce grunts, fingers trailing along my neck. 

Serpo meanwhile lays in happy contentment, relishing the attention Edward was giving her sore body. 

"Wonder what happened to those other people?" The taller man questions, "Brian and Lucas and Ruth?" "Hope they're okay." I reply. 

Pierce leans down to press a kiss against my cheek, I not at all disgusted or alarmed by the contact. In fact, I was somewhat hoping he would. "Me too." He rumbles, "Me too."

We three just sit there for a bit, comforted by the others presence, until the peace is broken by the approach of Drake. 

"Veronica." The ocult man hums, "Can I speak with you for a bit?" 

Begrugingly rising from Edward, I glance at Serpo, her expressionless face seeming to say, _I'll keep him safe._ Nodding in graditude, I follow Drake up stairs to a table litted with ancient scrolls and books. 

"What do you need?" I ask. 

"I need to know if you are feeling alright, if I should worry about you possibly having brain damage." My eyes narrow, "Excuse me?" 

Pointing over the railing, where Serpo and Edward nap undisturbed. "The behavior you've been showing is well beyond any ordinary act. I dare say the affection you've been showing Pierce almost looks genuine." 

Crossing my arms, "And what concern of yours is it if indeed I am not pretending?" 

"My concern is the fact that never in my entire life of studying your kind have I seen such a thing. Perhaps Niggurath of the Forest, she is well known for being the inspiration behind tales of Succubi, but you Nepthys..." I step forward, hissing low, "Do not speak that name aloud, Pierce cannot know that is who I am." 

Raising a brow, Drake scratches his chin, "You mean to say he does not know what you are? How and why?" 

"Yog-Sothoth himself told me that Pierce is critical to unraveling this mystery, but in order to succeed he must never think I am anything but another human." Looking surprised, Drake flips through one book until it lands on page. "The Keeper of the Gate told you this? Interesting, very interesting."

He mutters to himself, deep in thought, only to then shake his head, proclaiming, "We are forgetting the topic, that being you of all creatures, infamous for raping and murding us less mighty creatures for no reason other than you felt like it are suddenly spooning with a half drunk, disgruntled detective like you are teenage lovers."

"How very unbecoming of you, Pale Vampire. I wonder what your brother would think if he had walked in on the scene I just witnessed." 

Allowing my eyes to hone into glowing, silver pinpricks, I state plainly, "What he thinks is irrelevant, who I choose to call my allies is none of his concern, nor is it your God damn buisness!"

Algernon is silent for a bit. "You are not what I expected, from a Outer Being or from Nepthys of all creatures." Grinning feircly, I clarify. "My name is not Nephthys, it is Veronica Xaire, and I must thank you, Drake." 

His head tilts, asking what there is to thank him for. 

"Why, helping me finally sort these thoughts going through my head. Before, when I felt what I did when meeting Edward, I was confused, but this talk of ours has allowed me to at last accept what I am expeirencing is indeed true."

"What would that be?"

"He is a human, but he is mine. To threaten him would be to commit suicide, Cthulhu has just tied that last knot on the noose, all he needs now is a little push, which I am going to give him very, very soon."

Indeed, I can already see it, the future once this whole ordeal was over. 

Reclining in a chair, my family around me, the five of us looking over the masses of earth, knelt in awe to our regality. Serpo napping calmly at my side, Edward seated next to her, tenderly worshipping my feet like a good little human. 

My good little human, who I shall pamper and adore, make him King of Mankind, a most befitting reward for his loyalty and friendship. He shall be king and prophet, who will preach the word of I, Nephthys, Goddess of Blood and Darkness. 

I am turned away from Drake so he cannot see the dreamy smile that splits my face ear to ear. Yes, that shall be nice, and soon it shall be reality.

What? What is with that face? 

Were you expecting otherwise? Is this not what you always thought I meant? How I truley feel for Edward?

No? You were hoping for something else? 

Well, I am sorry to dissapoint you. 


	10. Chapter 10

The night came, and with it sleep. 

Refusing to separate myself from Serpo and Edward, we found a guest bedroom big enough for the three of us. 

Edward lay on his side, one arm slung over me as I rest pressed up against his well-toned chest. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine we were back in Manhatten, in my room, far, far away from all of this, enjoying each others company, he had just finished pleasing his mistress, I had expressed my gratitude for his service, we finding comfort in each other's arms. 

Niggurath would not mind the fact I had a new plaything, she no doubt would have been with us, curious to see what about Edward was so special.

Oya would be envious she was no longer the center of my attention, but she'd learn to get over it.

Or maybe not, don't know, don't really care.

But what I do know is this, Edward belongs to me and me alone, nothing in all of creation shall change that.

Darkness surrounds us, waves lapping gently in the distance, spliced with the howls and shrieks of Star Spawn on the hunt. Edward was worried that they might find us, Drake easing his concerns with the statement that the ward he put around the manor would ensure it remained out of the thoughts of our foe. Not so much make it invisible, more along the lines of causing the building to become extremely uninteresting in the eyes of those that looked upon it. 

I blink and am suddenly elsewhere, mind spinning as my sensitive nose is assaulted by the overwhelming stench of decay, more than what I am used to. 

Corpses line the stone floor, human and not. 

The half decomposed head of a blue whale is directly in front of me, its mouth agape, bloated tongue like some twisted form of red carpet for the stairs made from its rib cage and spine, leading down a hall lit by torches that flickered an ethereal green. 

Each of my footsteps echoes for what sounded like miles, the sliver of light at the end of the long hallway never seeming to grow closer. 

**_"WHAT A PUTRID LITTLE OFFERING."_ **

The words slam in my brain with the force of a speeding truck, clanging around within my skull, hands clutched over my ears in pain. **_"So desperate, so needful."_** The power behind each utterance is unmeseurable, deeper than the seafloor, stronger than the crack of lightning.

**_"Like a gathering of newborn pups, always seeking their father's approval."_ **

Screaming in a futile attempt to drown out the noise, I feel my knees buckle, body striking the wall. 

**_"So very soon, a storm brews, the depths shall rise up and sweep over the shores, rendering the works of God to dust."_ **

The voice lets out a horrid sound, what I assume to be laughter, growing in intensity by the second, till at last, I feel as though my head were about to pop like a zit, only for me eyes to fly open, sitting up, panting and sweating.

Edward is at my side, one calloused palm rubbing my shoulder, Serpo nuzzling my chest, the two comforting me, soothing my fear. 

"I heard it. The voice from you dream." Those are my first words spoken once composed enough. "Is it him? Cthulhu?" Edward questions, voice low so as to not disturb the others. "Wouldn't doubt it." 

"How do we even kill this thing? From what I can tell, these Outer Beings sound like gods." I chuckle scornfully, "Thats what they'd like you to think, but the truth is, they have weaknesses just like any other creature." Phantom sensations remind me of how close I came to death in the past few days. Enchanted pellets peirce skin once thought harder than diamonds, fists attached to scaly arms club at my skull, fingers crush my throat like a empty soda can. 

"Dagon has been bested by humanity before, throughout all of this worlds history are tales of heroes facing hideous beasts, who were superior to mankind in almost every way, yet still they fell. Behind every fairy tale is some semblance of truth, but a few of those tales played out just as they are told."

My eyes lock onto his, cupping the detectives jaw. "Despite all their flaws, humanity is still one of the strongest races in the galaxy. What is lacked in strength is compensated by bravery and intelligence." "You make this whole buisiness sound easy? He rumbles, close enough for his breath to make my skin prickle.

"It isn't, trust me. Besides, it wouldn't be fun if there wasn't some sort of challenge." We laugh quietly, the silent huffing Serpo makes perhaps her own way of expressing amusement. 

"Best get back to sleep, we got a long day ahead of us." 

On that, we were all in agreement.


	11. Chapter 11

Ludhill Mental Institute drew closer and closer by the moment, our trio of vehicles trundling up to the asylum, we all silent save for the occasional cough or sneeze. Pierce examining his pistol in one hand, offering me a nip from his flask after he downs a gulp.

Colden worked at the Institute alongside the man Edward referred to as Fuller, whom Drake stated was another of Cthulhus servants. Colden would take the lead, guide us to Sarah Hawkins, every one of us hoping she indeed was what we wish her to be, for if not, then defeating the shambler may not be possible. 

We arrive, everyone exiting to take in the dreary, rundown looking structure. "This is it, huh?" Bradley grunts, revolver clutched tight. "No turning back, anyone wants out, here's your chance," I state. "We do this, then the whole of Darkwater'll know, we'll be hunted up and down this island till either we're dead, or Cthulhu is." 

Serpo rises to her full height, dwarfing us all. She thumps one fist off her boney chest in salute, Pierce copying the gesture, followed quickly by the others. "We're with you," Drake swears. "Till the end." Echoes Pierce. 

Smiling, filled with pride, I turn to face the front door, pausing to admire the gun gifted to me by Bradley, his status as a cop having allowed him to smuggle out weapons for us all. 

"Here we go." I proclaim, ramming my shoulder into the closed entrance. 

The old wood splinters, almost launched right off the hinges, flying inward so we can all pour in, firearms raised like a squadron of soldiers. 

The interior of Ludhill is dark, a thick layer of dust covering anything it could, the only light coming from the mid-day sun at our backs.

"Where is everyone?" Drake questions. "I was just here a week ago." Colden adds, "But this place looks like it hasn't had people in it for years!" 

"Somethin' ain't right, Xaire." Pierce mumbles to my left, Serpo crouched at his side like an attack hound. "Colden." I huff past the dusty air. "Where are the patients kept?" She runs a finger across the empty service desk, digit coming away with a sheen of filth on it. "Bottom floor, I have the key, follow me." 

We do so, clustered together, guided by lanterns Drake and Bradley brought with them, orange glow casting shadows that danced eerily in the light. "I sense something nearby," Drake says. "Shambler?" Asks Colden. Algernon does not answer at first, "No, maybe. I am not sure, its as though it is trying to hide its aura from me." 

Bradley kisses a rosary fished out of one satchel, muttering a prayer of safety for us as we continue on. 

Everyone then almost leaps through the ceiling when the front doors slam shut, I hurry over to pull on the knob. 

"It won't budge! Serpo, help me with this!" She skitters over, the two of us yanking and pushing to no avail. 

"Veronica!" I hear Colden shout, but when I turn around, I find only her. Everyone else was gone. 

"What in the world?" 

"Drake!" She calls. "Bradley?" I crow. "Edward?" 

"Where did they go?" The doctor bemoans, "Stay close." IS my reply, "You as well, Ser-" But the night gaunt is not there either, she had vanished and was no more than two feet away. 

"Oh, no! Oh god, oh god! What is happening?!" My hand lands on Colden's shoulder. "Stay calm, this is no doubt the Shamblers doing. It is trying to scare you, make you panic so it could catch us easier."

"But...where is everyone else? Did it take them? Is it-" I grip her palm, "Hold my hand. "Don't let go. Focus on me, focus on taking us to Sarah Hawkins. Nothing else matters." She inhales deep, giving a nod after a bit. "Okay, okay. This way." Colden walks, I follow, she gripping my hand with all the strength she could muster. 


	12. Chapter 12

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening." Colden chants as we walk on, her voice being the only sound sans our footsteps, which are slow and cautious. "Do you have any family?" I ask, the question silencing her whispers. "Wha'?" Colden hums in confusion. "Family," I repeat. "Any sons? Daughters?" "N-No, well, I...no." "What?" She shakes her head, "Nothing, it's absurd. You'll laugh." I smirk. 

"Dear, right now a laugh could do us both some good." 

Colden sighs, "Bradley. I always thought of the man like a kid brother, the fool would forget his own head if I didn't remind him it was on his shoulders." We giggle like two gossiping school girls. "I grew up in Darkwater, me and Bradley went to school together. He was always nice to me, we sat together during lunch and would talk the whole time." 

"Friends are a valuable thing," I state. "Yeah, they are." 

We arrive at a door made from iron bars, Colden producing a key and inserting it. 

A staircase leading downward at a sharp angle yawn. "I'll go first, Colden. Stay behind me, watch my back and I'll watch yours." She nods, thumbing the hammer on her colt. 45

Down we go, flanked on either side by grey stone, halting every now and then when a noise cuts through the silence. 

"Somethings following us." I say, "I can feel it." Colden agrees.

"Tell me more about you and Bradley."

She swallows, "We were always close, we both had dreams of helping people, being there for those that needed us to be. But we had different ideas about how to do it. Bradley wanted to fight the danger, face it head-on. I wanted to comfort those the danger had hurt, ease their pain. That is why he went to be a cop while I'm a doctor. More than once he ended up being the person who needed healing, has plenty of marks on his record that its a miracle he hasn't been discharged yet."

"I'm sure he's okay, we'll find him." "Yeah."

We reach the bottom of the stairs, hallways lined with cells ahead, left and right. 

"Which way?" Colden hesitates, "Forward. No!" I spare a glance at the woman. "Right, or was it left?" "Colden?" She stumbles back, dropping her gun so she may cover her forehead. "Oh, I...I can't remember! It's like...Something is...God help me." She slides to the floor, lantern clattering, flame sputtering. 

"Colden!" I shout, kneeling and shaking her. "Colden! Wake up!" But she just snores gently, fast asleep. 

"Consider her lucky." A thick, german accent purrs right into my ear. 

I spin around, finding myself gazing into eyes covered by black lensed glasses. 

Instinctively, one of my hands lashes out, only to glide right through the man's body like it was vapor. "Who are you?" I demand. He stands erect, dusting off the front of his white coat.

"Dr. Fuller, head Psychiatrist of Ludhill Mental Institute." I glare angrily, "Another of Cthulhu's pets." The man smiles, arms spread. "In the flesh, more or less." 

He looks past me at Colden, clicking his tongue. "Ah, poor lass, letting her heart cloud her mind. Both require further study, but they pale in comparison to dissecting you, Elder One." My teeth are bared, "Come near me with a scalpel and I'll stick it through your throat!" Again, he clucks in disapproval. "Such anger, such fire! Pity, it will not save you."

Fuller turns his back to me, waving one hand in dismmisive fashion. "Try not to damage her to much." The mirage of him vanishes as dozens of shapes come pouring out of the shadows, twisted, horrid things that resembled organic puzzles, haphazardly stitched together amalgamations of various earthly creatures. 

They bellow, howl and scream as they charge, lashing out with whatever limbs they could. 

My fist connects with one, sending it back where it splatters against a wall, second receiving a kick that causes its contorted, warped face to dangle from a now broken neck. 

A third lashes out with hands akin to the paws of a bear, with matching claws. 

I catch it by the wrists, grappling with the twisted thing while another sinks shark-like teeth into my calf, pulling away with a chunk of my leg, rivulets of brackish purple staining the cold floor. 

Extending a tendril to impale the thing through the chest, I fail to see the uppercut that causes my vision to be filled with twinkling spots. Down I go, biting and snarling and struggling, the creatures seemingly without end, scratching and clawing at whatever part of me they could. 

Pain and rage are all I feel as my body expands, explodes into a maelstrom of tentacles and fangs and eyes that burn with the anger of stars. 

The twisted monsters fall in rows, diced into platter sized pieces by the whirlwind of sword tipped appendages I unleash, roaring as beams of hellish hate reduce them to ashes. 

Those smart enough to realize the battle was lost turn and flee, but that was not enough for me. My tentacles wrap them up, teeth rip their heads off, squeezing out their blood, which my many mouths drink greedily, using the energy to accelerate my healing. 

I save the best for last. 

Once unleash, I bound the one that had the audacity to put its lips upon my sacred flesh, and now that the rest were dead or running, I hone dozens of tentacles into needle-thin points, ramming them into any part of the body of the monster, draining it of all fluids from the inside out. 

Oh how it struggled, fought against the inevitable, fear plain as daylight in its face, which turn paperwhite as its body shriveled up into a raisin, which I promptly toss aside once done.

Reverting back into something the human mind could comprehend, I heft Colden onto my shoulder. 

"Don't you worry." I say, "I'm not leaving you here." 

She just snuffles quietly, remaining like this as I haul her and myself down one hall, iron-barred cells marching on either side of us, empty and cold.

_"To be expected."_ Fuller's voice echoes all around me, I ignored him as best as I could. _"What else would result from a lesser being facing off against you, Nephthys?"_ "Silence, you brainwashed fool!" That is all I say in reply. 

Fuller cackles madly, clearing his throat to compose himself. 

_"It is not I who is brainwashed, no. If anyone it would be you."_

Here we go again.

_"The way you cling to Mr. Pierce, how you so gently spoke to Doctor Colden, even the way you carry the woman shows you don't want any harm to befall her."_

"That's because I don't!" _"Why? What about her makes you feel the need to defend her the way you do? What qualities does Edward Pierce have that make you so obsessively cry out his name when separated?"_

I force myself to stay silent. 

_"Could it be, you actually care about them? Not in the way a dogs master does, but genuinely feel they are your friends?"_

He was starting to sound like Drake.

_"You are changing, Nephthys. Whether you are aware of it or not, you are no longer what you used to be. How ashamed your sweet little Oya must be."_ My footsteps halt.

_"She did not believe it at first, but what were are seeing now has made it clear."_

"Oya?" I gasp, "What have you done with my child?" _"I have done nothing at all, but Lord Dagon and his consort, they have done quite a bit."_

He chortles again, silent and unanswering when I demand to know where Oya is.


	13. Chapter 13

The hallway stretched on, far past what even I could see, no end in sight, nothing but my footfalls and labored breath being heard.

"Come on, come on!" I chant, continuing to drag Colden along, she naught but dead weight, her heartbeat thankfully confirming she was still alive. But then, I freeze, stop dead in my tracks once I hear it. Deep, powerful murmurs, spoken in a language never before heard. "Oh fuck" Is all I can utter before breaking into a sprint, Colden in a fireman's carry on my back.

Over my panting, the sound of wet flesh slapping against the stone grows, gaining speed, getting closer and closer, the Shamblers taunts, understood only to it whispered in my ears. "I'm going to catch you." Its gibberish seemed to say, a bolt of fear arching down my spine as I imagine its claws around my neck again, its fangs digging into my flesh, the pain of being eaten alive and screaming causing me to lower my shoulder, giving a grunt as I slam into the concrete wall, which explodes from the force.

The pale, gaunt woman in the cell I just plowed into screams, as does Drake, and Bradley. "What the hell?!" Bradley exclaims, staring at me with wide eyes. "Shambler!" I proclaim, gesturing wildly back into the hall. 

Drake shoves past me, clutching an intricate silver-gold locket in hand. Holding it aloft, he yells in some unknown tongue, causing a flare of blinding green light to be shot out. 

Once my vision returns, I realize the murmuring had ceased. 

"Did you kill it?" Bradley asks as I ease Colden onto the floor. 

"No." The sorcerer replies, "It'll be back." 

Shaking my head, I demand to know what is going on. 

"The Dreamer knows what you are doing" The pale woman answers, seated calmly on a mattress stained with things better left unsaid. "Who's this?" I ask. 

"Sarah Hawkins," Bradley says, kneeling and gently tapping Coldens cheek. "Seen Peirce or your gaunt?" Questions Drake, to which I reply negatively. "Christ on his throne!" Shouts Colden out of no where, causing Bradley to fall on his ass. "Its okay." I assure her, "You're safe."

Hawkins turns her head to face us.

"It's rude to lie to people" Is all she says. 


	14. Chapter 14

Her lips were softer than silk, smoother than velvet, tasting of berries and far off lands. Shub radiated warmth, gentle and comforting.

Not as strong as the inferno within Oya, more akin to smoldering embers, this still a sharp contrast to the cold my body, cold like a drowned corpse.

So different than me, smaller, younger and weaker, yet whenever she pushed, I gave, she pulls and I am pulled. Her touch alone made me shudder, despite how humid the air around us was, insects chirping and animals calling, yet we alone, secluded by trees stretching high enough to breach the clouds, huddle close. 

She whispers something that makes me tremble, emotions, so calculated and precise now a jumbled whirlwind.

A hand touches my shoulder, and the vision fades. 

Colden observes me, face concerned. "Are you alright?" She is whispering, trying not to disturb the others, all together in the library within Hawkins Manor. 

"Why...wouldn't I be?" Is my reply.

She answers simply, "You were crying." Two fingers brush along my cheek, wet from tears that streamed down them. 

I should feel anger, anger that a weak, pathetic mortal saw me weep. But I don't, and again I know not why. 

Why do my emotions betray me? What in every hell imaginable is this island doing to my mind? 

In the span of but a week, so much of myself had changed, and yet this does not bother me at all. 

I know not why I seem to welcome these changes, and why I wish for them to continue.

"Just worried about Pierce and Serpo is all." I half-lie to Colden, who nods. Rather than return to her spot cuddled up against Bradley, she seats herself next to me, soft and warm and human, so much about her things I could never hope to have.

"He'll be fine." She assures, "Serpo'll protect him." That she could, kind, loyal Serpo, willing to do so much for someone she met but a few days ago. Oya would love her, wherever my daughter was upon this forsaken island. 

Fuller's words slither through my thoughts like a snake, a snake I shall cut the head off of, taking glee in how it twitches in an attempt to stave off punishment for daring to even think of harming my one and only child. 

We searched that damned asylum for hours, nary a sign of my three most trusted of allies, nothing to show they'd been there, it was as if they never existed, to begin with. A soft voice cuts through the silence between us, "I'm scared, Veronica." Turning my head to her, I stroke a thumb across the back of Colden's hand, "It's okay to be scared." I say it's all I can think of. 

She leans close, her breath minty, teeth white as pearls, resting her head on my shoulder. "You're a good person, Veronica." 

I bite my cheek hard enough to draw blood, the pain helping to keep the tears from falling again. 


	15. Chapter 15

And so, the sun rose yet again, I have spent the better of an hour staring out a dist smeared window, overlooking the half-ruined village below. A nasal voice hums behind me, Bradley standing there with a bowl of thin gruel, made from what materials we all could steal from huts on the edge of town. 

It tastes horrendous, even by my standards, but serves its purpose of giving me the energy to start this day. We sit together, Sarah still in her filth stained patient scrubs, eyes hollow and without emotion. 

If not for the slow, steady thump of her heart, I'd have assumed she was either a very lifelike statue, or dead.

She eats nothing, her cheeks, so gaunt one can see the bones if they squinted belied her refusal to consume the food set out before her.

She just sits there, blinking every once in a while, staring at some far off object she alone saw, for when I look in the same direction, all that greeted me was a wall.

"What now?" I at last ask. "As you said," Drake begins, "We must get rid of the Shambler." He gestures a calloused, scarred hand at Sarah, "Miss Hawkins here is going to help us." 

"How?" It's the first word Sarah utters, voice raspy from lack of use. "Tell us where the painting is." Answers Colden. "Sanders." She states. "Francis Sanders?" Questions Bradley, to which I ask if he knows who she speaks of.

"Yeah, an old relic collector, lived down near the docks in this big house, but he's been missing for a while now. No one can figure where he went.'" Sarah glances at me, her gaze saying, _But you do._

"He's dead." All stare, "The shambler killed him, I saw it." Fidgeting his hands, Bradley speaks again, "Then we should go to his place, look around." Everyone nods, sans Sarah. 

"But someone has to stay here, in case Fuller finds us" Says Drake, to which Colden nods, "Yeah, all of us together'll draw too much attention."

"I'll go" Volunteers Drake, "I and Xaire know the most about this sort of thing."

Colden turns her head my way, "Good luck" She says. 

Those simple words fill me with a quickly fading warmth, in that time i place a hand on her shoulder and smile the same smile i'd give Oya or Shub. "You too."


	16. Chapter 16

The journey is quick, Drake and I traveling in silence, up until he asks a question. 

"Do you really care about him?"

I know of whom he speaks. "Yes, I do." He next asks if I know why. "No, do you?" He turns a corner, "I do, Nephthys, and shall tell you one day, should we survive." I raise a brow, "And if you die, what then?" He scoffs playfully, "Then you'll have to figure it out on your own, I am afraid."

His truck rumbles to a stop before a stone manor, only slightly less dilapidated than the rest of Darkwater. I hurriedly climb out of the vehicle, motioning for Drake to stay. "You'll just raise too many questions," I state, directing my gaze to his bare arms, covered in scars and symbols that made my head spin. He huffs, "Suit yourself." 

I turn away, marching towards the house, rapping my knuckles off the beaten wood door. It creaks open, revealing a face framed with wire glasses, "Yes?" Their owner asks. 

"Good morning, ma'am." I greet, "My name is Veronica Xaire, I'm here cause I'd like to examine the artwork of a mister Francis Sanders" Her face softens a bit, "Oh, of course, your friend told me to expect you." 

Friend?

She motions me inside, and I feel my brain grind to a halt.

"Hullo, old friend" Greets Nodens, snow-white hair, matching a bushy grey beard combed neatly, going quite well with his crisp gold three-piece suit.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." I nearly state, instead swallowing my rage to reply, "Good to see you.’’


End file.
